


Would You Scream With Me?

by thatviciousvixen



Series: Hopeless Wanderers [2]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cinnamon Roll Nux, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you just need to be held.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would You Scream With Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Ludo song "Scream, Scream, Scream." This is woefully unbeta'd because I had quite the headache when I was proof-reading! I will definitely come back and fix it when I feel better <3
> 
> This is a companion piece in the Hopeless Wanderer series; you don't need to read "The Patron Saint" to read this one, but it gives you more details on the characters.
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr [here!](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)

The screaming is what really gets to Nux. It jerks him awake in the middle of the night, cutting through his heart like a lance and leaving him shaking in the safety of their bed with sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He can take any sort of physical pain. Between a mean father who drank too much and an ex-boyfriend who liked to see him cry, he’s thickened his skin enough to deal with the blows. But the sorrow, the agony of other people, that’s what really hurts.

It’s Max; it’s always Max.

He can hear the older man trapped in some sort of painful memory, crying out to something or someone who isn’t around to hear him. The harsh, rough bark of his voice occasionally trails into a whine or a whimper, before trailing off into soft, dry sobs. Nux mourns for him. Whatever it is that he lost, it was important. It was his entire world.

He gently draws the covers back, curling into Capable and rubbing her shoulder. “Sst. Cape. You awake?”

“Now I am,” she murmurs serenely. She’s always serene. In the hazy purples of the darkened room her hair glows like a sunset, fire across the pillowcase, and despite this explosion she is an oasis of calm. 

Nux feels warmth blooming in his chest. It’s what she inspires in him. Leaning in, he nuzzles into those curls and breathes deep. “How do you feel about nonsexual cuddling with someone I have no romantic interests for?”

Capable sits up, bleary eyed as she listens in silence. As soon as she hears Max cry out her suspicions are confirmed. “Poor thing. It’s happening more and more often lately. Yeah, go help him, you’re the best cuddler in the house.”

This is true. Dag made him a medal out of a root beer cap and everything.

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, Nux slides out of bed and pulls on a pair of loose gray sweatpants. They hang on him like a shroud, he just can’t seem to put weight on these days. Stepping lightly he leaves the bedroom, padding down the hall and gently twisting the knob to Max’s room.

As he steps inside he’s hit with a wave of emotion, a thick, heavy thing that crashes into him and nearly leaves him breathless. Max is drowning in this sea of pure agony that touches anyone who draws near, licking at their ankles and trying to drag them into its current. They love him, though. Love his surly, affectionate silence, the way he is willing to shoulder any burden they can’t bare alone. The way he respects Furiosa’s wisdom and Angharad’s kindness, the way he has taken Capable under his wing and begun to teach her all the ins and outs of mechanics and repairs and working with her hands. He learned how to braid hair because Dag wanted him to, sits quietly as Cheedo’s wall of strength crumbles and she needs someone to cry on. He listens with respect and intent as Toast goes off about politics and theology. He is there for them with honed precision, and Nux aches to do the same for him.

What he doesn’t want to do is get jacked in the face by a man in the middle of a night terror. 

“Max,” he calls softly, standing a foot away from the bed and leaning over. “Max, wake up, you’re just dreaming.” When there’s no response he sighs, kneeling on the edge of the bed and rubbing Max’s shoulder. “Come on buddy, wake up. You’re okay, you’re safe. Wake up man.”

No good. Whatever Max is seeing in his dreams has a good hold on him. That, or he doesn’t _want_ to escape whatever visions are haunting him. 

Nux gives up on trying to rouse him. Instead he walks to the other side of the bed, taking a deep breath and carefully crawling in. It isn’t hard for him to spoon up around Max’s back; the older man might be built like the broad side of a barn but Nux is long and gangly and wraps around people like an overly affectionate squid. One arm slides under Max to wrap around his chest and pull him close, the other draping over his hip and soothingly rubbing his stomach.

“Sh, you’re okay, it’s just a dream,” Nux whispers.

Max jerks slightly, then stills. His breath leaves him in a slow sort of gasp, a soft rush of release. His broad shoulders twitch, and then two muddy-blue eyes look back at Nux wearily. 

“Hi,” he says simply, grinning.

A shudder passes through the older man’s body, one that he’s clearly been holding in for quite some time. Years, possibly. Bringing a hand up, Max rubs at his face before sinking back into Nux. “Dreamed about my daughter.”

In the year they’ve known each other (including the six months Nux has been living with Max and the girls) he has never heard of Max having a daughter or any sort of wife or partner. Nux would bet that no one has. It’s an unspoken code among their patched-up little family. You’re there to support each other, but you don’t ask questions. People will talk when they’re ready. Sometimes they’re never ready (Nux still doesn’t know what drove the girls from the East coast into the sun-drenched arms of Nevada). Sometimes they’re ready to share the big stuff before the little stuff. It’s how Nux has always operated, telling them all about his abusive father and dead mother and the myriad of illnesses that wreak havoc on his body before they even knew his last name. Sometimes it feels good to get it out, sometimes it doesn’t. And that’s all fine.

Still, the fact that he’s never even heard _mention_ of this child tells him plenty. She’s either missing or dead, and Max is plagued by it to the point of violent, screaming nightmares once or twice a week.

It makes Nux ache with sympathy. 

He wraps his arms tighter around Max, who doesn’t fight the embrace. Instead he curls up, bringing his arms up to rest over the paler ones wrapped around him. “Hopefully the dreams don’t come back tonight,” Nux murmurs, closing his eyes and nestling down into the pillow below him. “You need to get some legitimate sleep.”

Max is quiet for a moment, hands wrapped tight around Nux’s forearms. Nux wonders if he’s ever had a friend like this, one that isn’t afraid of the screaming and the silence, who isn’t afraid of being the strong one for a while. Nux wonders if he’s ever had a friend at all.

There is a moment where Max fidgets, adjusting helplessly to try and find just the right spot that will help him fall back asleep. When he doesn’t find it he turns, pushing and pulling at Nux until the younger man is on his back. Max rests his head on Nux’s shoulder, draping an arm over his waist and closing his eyes.

He doesn’t say another word, just falls asleep.

For a long while Nux is silent, contemplating the man next to him and everything that’s happened in the last year to get him to this place. He’s never been anyone’s rock, never been the strength of the family, yet here he is. Providing something, even if it’s just a friend to cling to when the nightmares won’t keep away. If that’s what his role is going to be in this family than he’s more than happy for it.

He thinks of Capable and her sisters, their sweet acceptance and quiet strength, regardless of whatever it is that’s brought them here. He thinks of Max and the walls he is slowly but surely letting them see behind. He thinks of himself, and how maybe he finally has a place in the world.

He thinks of the future, and he sleeps.


End file.
